


God Help the Outcasts

by keykiyoshi7443



Series: 2016 In-Class Works [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I can't really remember, I'm pretty sure Jason curses, Idk what happened, Mentions of Prostitution, but then it didn't actually work out, i cry, some violence, this was supposed to be fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keykiyoshi7443/pseuds/keykiyoshi7443
Summary: A group of orphans and nuns adopt the Red Hood into their rag tag family.This summary is really bad lol, read the fic. It has Jason Todd and other orphan children. Also there's nuns cuz reasons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the title is so much cooler than the fic actually is, but I spent like 2 months writing this???? for like no reason. I hate it.

Jason wasn’t exactly what you’d call a hero. Heroes saved the process and defeated evil, and most importantly, heroes don’t kill. So yeah, Jason wasn’t a hero like Superman or Wonder Woman who fit the cookie cutter mold perfectly. In fact, he wasn’t even like batman, your darker than average hero.

No, Jason Todd wasn’t a hero. And he was fine with that. Because heroes had to be perfect, and they always had to make the right decisions. They could do no wrong and they were pure. People looked up to them and wanted to be them. They always knew what to do and arrived in the nick of time to save the day.

Jason wasn’t like that. He was realistic and he could realize when he was bat. He also ended things in a much more permanent way. Jason killed and he wasn’t even the least bit ashamed of that fact. Now those murderers and rapists could never hurt anyone ever again. Batman liked to say that “if you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world remains the same” to defend his ‘no kill’ rule. But that’s only true if you kill a single killer.

According to Einstein the heroes were the ones who were insane. They kept doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Batman especially. Jason knew how easy it was to get out of Arkham. After all, he’d had to escape from there too.

Point is, Jason is no hero. So that’ why he was pretty confused when one day in the middle of his patrol, he was approached by a nun. A fucking nun came out of nowhere and just started talking to him like it was an everyday occurrence. “You’re the Red Hood right?” she asked him. He’d been sitting on the roof of some beat up old building having a smoke, he didn’t bother to read the sign out front.

He probably should have, he could have avoided the entire confrontation.

The nun who had gone up to him, looked around middle aged. She had old eyes and frown lines, overall she looked rather stern. He gave her an appraising look before nodding slowly. She scowled at him before speaking again. “Well what are you doing up there?” she demands. He blinks at her then send a pointed look towards his right hand that one could see even with his domino mask. He had stopped to take a smoke, it was still early after all. But he didn’t really feel like going on patrol anyway, so he had taken a break.

His helmet rested beside him on the edge of the roof. He was still wearing his domino mask so his identity was safe, but he had taken off the helmet because despite how much he wore it, it actually wasn’t all that comfortable. As soon as the nun’s gaze rested on the lit cigarette she scowled and sent a scrutinizing look at his face. “You can’t be any older than 17! You shouldn’t be smoking, let alone running about and playing hero.” She reprimanded. Jason frowned. He’d been fighting crime since he was 9 years old and smoking even longer.

Smoking was a habit he’d picked up during his time on the streets. Smoking took the edge off the hunger. If Alfred couldn’t get him to stop smoking after 5 years then this nun didn’t stand a chance. “Lady I’ve been doin’ worse for much longer. S’not like this’ll be the thing that’ll kill me. S’not like it would be the first time either…” he mumbled near the end, his lower Gotham accent shining through. The nun’s gaze hardened, most likely at his lack of manners

“Well come in then. It is cold out and you look like you could use a break, and probably a good meal too! Gotham can deal without you for one night” she scolded. He stared at her incredulously, was she serious? She simply stared him down and sent him a triumphant look when he climbed down the building to stand in front of the nun. He shot a quick look at the sign in front of the building and internally cringed when he saw that it was in fact, a church run orphanage.

Just his luck.

The nun smirked at him before ushering him into the building. There he was greeted with the stares of 3 younger nuns, 4 old nuns and about 15 children ranging from 5 to 13 years old. “Now, why don’t you wait here and just have a chat while I fix us all up some food.” The nun said forcefully as she practically shoved him towards the groups of children. He was about to refuse when suddenly a 5 year old little girl who was clutching a Teddy Bear tightly to her chest, shot him the puppy dog eyes.

“Please Mr. Hood? We wanna hear your story!” she said, and really, how could Jason argue with that? He’d always had a weakness for small kids. He blames this or his special treatment of the demon brat.

He send a pointed look at the 4 nuns standing behind the children to see just how much he needed to sensor. Surprisingly the nuns (yes even the old ones!) looked as eager to hear his story as the kids were. He shrugged and allowed the group to herd him into another room where they could all sit down “So what exactly do you want to know? I can’t tell you my identity or anything incriminating.” He asked them, throwing in the last part as a second thought.

“Who were you before you were the Red Hood?” one of the older kids asked. Jason had to think about how to answer that question for a moment before responding.

“Why I was a Robin. The second one to be exact.”

A 7 year old girl spoke up this time with the simple question of “why aren’t you Robin anymore?” Now _that_ was a loaded question. How was he supposed to answer that? He shot a panicked look at one of the nuns who simply mouthed ‘tell the truth’ at him. He groaned softly and dragged a hand across his face.

“I was killed by the Joker” he answered. He saw the confusion flutter across their faces and he raised a hand to motion for them to wait. “I’ll save you the details on how exactly I died, needless to say it wasn’t pretty or fast. And it sure as hell hurt. But about a year after batman buried me, the League of Shadows – those are really bad people who you should never and or any circumstances, talk to – brought me back to life.”

The 5 year old who had originally convinced him to stay scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “But then… if the Joker killed you, why didn’t Batman do anything about it? Doesn’t he have a new Robin now?” she asked innocently. She couldn’t possibly know, but it was the same questions he’d asked himself when he first came back. Sometimes he still asked those questions.

“Well I guess Batman didn’t love me as much as I thought” he said stiffly, faking a smile, although it was tight around the edges. “He just locked the Joker back into his very escapable mental hospital and found himself a new and more obedient Robin” he continued bitterly. The little girl looked confused and almost as if she didn’t like that answer.

“Is that why you kill people? SO that they can’t hurt others again?” another child asked. He raised an eyebrow, wow, kids were good at hitting the nail right on the head. Shooting a worried look at suspiciously silent nuns, he patted the child’s head.

“Yeah, Batman always likes to say that it’s just too easy to become like them if you kill. I disagree, it’s worth it if it saves others” he answered. By now it seems that the children were more comfortable in his presence, because they gradually moved towards him until he had 3 children in his lap and a handful sitting around him. Even the nuns had moved closer, seemingly content with the fact that he wouldn’t be harming the children.

He wasn’t sure how long that security would last considering how many personal questions the kids asked and how he’d been given the green light to tell the truth.

“Is Batman your dad?” a boy – probably 12 years old – asked. He looked more worn than the others his age, and certainly more cautious. He still kept his distance from Jason. Smart kid with a decent self-preservation instincts. He looked like a former street kid. Although he probably hadn’t actually lived on the streets for more than a week. He was lucky. Although a week was more than enough in Crime Alley.

“Now” that answer was easy. Even after he’d been adopted by Bruce, it had never felt like Bruce had actually loved him. The fact that his grave said _‘good soldier’_ instead of something like _‘beloved son’_ certainly showed just how Bruce had felt about him. Now he thinks that Jason should be thrown in Arkham with the fucking Joker. He really felt the love. It didn’t help that Bruce had treated Tim – his replacement more like a son while his parents had still been alive. “He just found me on the streets while I’d been in the process of stealing his tires and decided I’d make a decent Robin.”

The boy frowned, “So you were a street kid?” he asked. Jason simply nodded. It wasn’t like that piece of information would lead them to his identity. There were so many street kids out there.

“What was it like” a female voice blurted out. Looking up he was surprised to see that it was one of the young nuns who had blurted out the question. Although she did look a little embarrassed. “Living on the streets?” she continued. He sent her an appraising look, she had guts. Even if she looked like she thought she shouldn’t have asked that question she held her ground and patiently awaited his response.

“It was hard being alone in Crime Alley” he said finally. All eyes were focused on him, enraptured by the tale he was weaving. “My father was one of Two Face’s men, so he was rarely home. And when he was home, he used to beat me and my mom. Eventually he stopped coming back, so I assume he was killed. By then my mother had become a drug addict, it was no surprise she was neglectful. She overdosed when I was 9 years old.”

“After that I took to the streets. I did whatever I had to do to survive. I stole, I… “ he swallowed ad continued anyway not daring to look up at the nuns “sold myself, there was always some piece of scum willing to pay for a 9 year old boy’s… services. It was hard and I always felt like trash, like the scum at the bottom of a rich man’s shoe. I wish that I had listened to other kids and just gone to an orphanage. Anything is better than the streets” he admitted.

Looking up he saw looks of sympathy and understanding, not pity. But he was very grateful that there was no looks of disgust. “That’s part of the reason why I loved being Robin. I got to save people who were going through the same things I did. I got to feel like I was worth something again. But I guess I wasn’t worth as much as I thought. Batman couldn’t even make sure that the Joker could never hurt another kid again. I was only 14.” He mumbled. The children stared at him wide eyed as if not understanding what Jason had just told them.

Jason was just surprised the nuns weren’t glaring at him for talking about how he used to be a prostitute.

Luckily, the middle aged nun returned before anyone could ask another question. In her hands, she held a tray stacked high with bowls of stew and slices of bread. She passed them but to everyone and they ate in silence. Jason was grateful for that. He nodded and they ate in silence. Jason was grateful for that. He nodded in thanks as he dug into the food with gusto, the children followed his example although the nuns were a bit more elegant. It wasn’t anywhere near as good as anything that Alfred could cook, but Jason hadn’t eaten in days, so who was he to complain?

After a couple of moments, a nun spoke up. This time it was the old nun who had kept silent during his story. “Do you ever wish you’d stayed dead?” she asked softly her voice raspy from year of wear. This question caught Jason off guard. He didn’t quite know how he was supposed to answer that. So he settled on the truth.

“Sometimes, yeah. It would be so much easier and pain free” he settled on saying. It was true, and that was probably the most depressing part, but in all fairness he hadn’t even been resurrected for himself. Talia only did it for Bruce, and everyone knew how happy he was with his _gift_.

“Surely there must have been someone that was happy that you… came back?” a young nun said incredulously. She had a slightly horrified look on her face, Jason chalked it up to the fact that Jason had been resurrected.

Jason let out a choked laugh, because really the question was hilarious. “Happy?” he asked shocked. “I’m pretty sure Batman’s a little too preoccupied with trying to lock me up in Arkham right beside the Joker to be happy.” He answered bitterly. “And as for the first Robin? Well he never liked me. Didn’t stop him from adoring the third did it? Didn’t stop either of them from replacing me _6 months_ after I was gone.”

He looked up at the ceiling trying to will away the tears. God, he got so damn emotional about all this. The little 5 years old girl crawled back into his lap (the children _had_ given him some space to eat) and snuggled. “That’s not fair Mr. Hood. Everyone should have someone who loves him” he stared at her in shock.

Everyone he’s ever told (so it was just Roy and Kori… so what?) had always sided with the Batfamily, claiming it was unfair of him to treat them like that when they were trying. Never before had he had someone take _his_ side. “No it isn’t fair” the middle aged nun agreed looking at him with a mix of sadness and determination.

Somehow he could tell that she was planning something and he wasn’t all that sure that he would like it.

 

* * *

 

Despite his misgivings, he did end up returning to the orphanage, multiple times a week even. It was a nice break from patrol and fighting with his so called family. He enjoyed visiting with the children and just playing. It seems that they’ve been enjoying his company too so it was a win win situation. Every time he came there was more and more kids there waiting to greet him. And every time he’d ask a nun why they’d just wink at him with a twinkle in their eyes.

He didn’t question it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth right? Kids were off the streets, that’s all that mattered to him and he was content to let the ‘why’ be for now. That is, until Dick confronted him.

“ _Little Wing!_ Why didn’t you ever tell me that you were a prostitute and you wish you never came back?” he whined as soon as he found Jason. Jason paused, stared at him, and then turned on his heel and walks away. He didn’t want to deal with Dick right now, and he _really_ didn’t want to think about how Dick had found out about that. The only people who knew was Bruce and Alfred, the prostitutes he took under his wing, and… the orphans at the church run orphanage.

More and more kids of all ages showing up and staying. One kid always missing then back the next week with another bunch of street kids. It was still pretty rare for a kid to come in without an escort. But they were always much more open with him – a stranger- than an ex-street rat should logically be. It all made sense now. The kids were going out and telling his story. His suspicions were only confirmed when he remembered one of the new kids saying that she was glad he was alive.

He’d thought it was just an expression of gratitude for protecting the streets.

And if kids were coming in on their own – in increasing numbers – then that means his orphans weren’t the only ones telling the story. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to say that maybe others (criminals and thugs?) had overheard it from them or a group of passing street kids. He continued to walk away, he’d need to talk to some of the kids about spreading rumours.

It was beginning to ruin his reputation.

The only problem was that Dick was still following him… and whining the whole way. “Little Wiiiinnnnngggg” he whined, drawing out the word ‘wing’. “Why don’t you talk to me anymore?” he sounded like a 5 year old. Scratch that, there were 5 year old kids in that orphanage that were _way_ more mature than Dick will ever be. He ignore him, hoping that if he did, Dick would take the hint and leave him alone.

Who was he kidding? Dick was never able to take a hint, why would he start now?

“Dick I never told you because a. it was never any of your business and b. you weren’t exactly available or looking to know _anything_ about me when I was Robin” he said, suddenly turning around and causing Dick to nearly run into him. Dick looked surprised that Jason had actually responded to him. Then he got this pained look on his face as he seemed to realize what Jason had said.

Jason took this opportunity to run right to the orphanage. He closed the doors behind him and prayed that Dick would be too distracted by his guilt to continue to harass him. He keened against the door,, enjoying his moment of silence. Then he was suddenly swarmed by children. He groaned as they lay in a heap n the marble floor. “Alright midgets get off of me. We need to have a talk.” Maybe the kids understood how serious he was or maybe they were just scared because they immediately got off of him.

He sat up and they stared at him expectantly. “Now is it true that you’ve been telling my story to the other street kids to convince them to come to the orphanage?” he asked, doing his best to imitate Alfred’s disappointed eyebrow. It always managed to get him to tell the truth, and if the sheepish looks he was getting meant anything, he did a decent enough job.

The kids nodded sheepishly, although not verbally admitting it. “Guys you can’t do that anymore okay? It makes you a target to the thugs out there because you know me and I might not be able to save you in time” he said seriously. The kids nodded again, looking somewhat dejected. “Now I’m not mad at you guys, I just don’t want you to get hurt” he explained.

The children, now thoroughly scolded, crowded around him. “We’re sorry Mr. Hood! We won’t do it again” they cried as some of them hugged him. He smiled softly and ruffled some of the children’s’ hair. They always managed to make him smile even when he came there to scold them.

“Now how about you tell me all about your week?” he suggested to the gaggle of excited children. They cheered and practically dragged him towards another room where they could sit down and begin to babble. The nuns looked on with small smiles, the Red Hood seemed to be good for the children after all.

And maybe, the children were good for the Red Hood too.

 

* * *

 

Jason gasped as he ran down yet another alleyway, desperately trying to get away. He cringed as he heard the sound of light footsteps and a grapple gun. He didn’t know what he did this time, he’d been laying low and helping with the orphanage. It made absolutely no sense why Bruce was chasing him down. If the aura of anger coming from his former foster father meant anything, then he knew that this wasn’t a social visit.

He meant business, and something told him that the end result would not be in his favour. He continued to run, only stopping when a batarang flew past him, nicking him on the cheek. That was the only warning he got before he was suddenly knocked to the ground and sat on. He grunted as he came into contact with the pavement. He struggled in Bruce’s grip and managed to roll over so that he was facing the other vigilante.

“B calm down” he said desperately as Bruce pinned him roughly to the ground. “What did I do?! I’ve been laying low lately! I haven’t killed in over a year!” he continued, struggling to understand what he’d done recently to draw Batman’s ire.

Batman growled at him before practically yelling at him in the bat voice. “Where are they?” he demanded. Jason was confused, he had no idea what he was talking about. He frowned. When he didn’t respond, Batman proceeded to punch Jason in the face.

He groaned as the back of his head cracked against the pavement. That obviously wasn’t what Bruce wanted, but as soon as the start began to fade from his vision he spoke again. “Who?” he asked breathlessly. Bruce growled at him yet again.

“Don’t play dumb, you know who. Children have been disappearing and the only thing I can find is your name being whispered around the streets” he growled dangerously as he raised his fist again. Jason’s eyes flashed dangerously behind his mask and he used this opportunity to break out of Batman’s grip and throw him off himself.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Why would I – a former street rat – be killing other street kids?!” he demanded incredulously as he tried to fight back and get his bearing. He didn’t know what to do exactly but Bruce was coming at him yet again, fists and non-lethal weapons flying.

He fought as hard as he could, but after multiple knocks to the head there was only so much he could do. Batman was still clear sighted and had his wits about him – not counting his irrational rage. “You kill, I wouldn’t put it past you” Bruce growled sharply as he threw a punch at the side of Jason’s head.

Jason was too shocked by Bruce’s remark to be able to respond in time. He as knocked to the ground and he cringed as his head cracked against the pavement yet gain. He struggled but Batman just continued to wail on him, raining down punch after punch. He tried to explain but Batman was hearing none of it. All he could do was try and protect himself from too much damage.

Just when he though Bruce would knock him unconscious and throw him in Arkham, someone interrupted the caped crusader’s assault. “Stop! What are you doing?!” a young voice yelled from somewhere behind them. He looked back in a daze, trying t identify the voice, it sounded familiar. He craned his head back to see a group of children accompanied by the middle aged nun.

“Don’t interfere. He’s a very dangerous serial killer that escaped Arkham. He needs to be put back before he hurts someone like you.” Batman growled as he twisted Jason’s arm. Jason groaned as he was flipped onto his stomach. He still wasn’t able to beat Batman. Probably never would be able to either.

He closed his eyes as his face rested against the cool pavement. “Mr. Hood isn’t a criminal! And he doesn’t belong in Arkham either” a different voice claimed angrily. Jason could practically hear the frown in the young girl’s voice. Then a stern voice that Jason knew to belong to the middle aged nun rang through the air.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, look at what you’ve done to that poor boy! Now get off him this instant” she scolded. Bruce froze shocked then there was a moment of silence and a shuffle of movement and then he was reluctantly moved off of Jason. Jason wheezed light as the weight was suddenly removed from his back.

“Leave, you have no business here. And for your information, Mr. Hood has been helping kids get off the streets. He does a lot more for us than you do and you’ll find a lot more people would choose the Red Hood over Batman down here” she said coldly. Bruce showed no outward emotion, but Jason had a lot of experience reading him.

He knew that Bruce was taken aback by the loyalty that the nun and the group of children were showing. Bruce just didn’t seem to be able to see past what he’d done with the first year or two of his second chance. He only killed the people that the world would be better off without. It’s not like he went around killing thieves and prostitutes for no reason other than they were scum.

He knew that people did what they had to do to survive. He’d done the same thing. Murderers and rapists were not included in that group. They were scum and they had a greater negative impact on the world than positive. He wasn’t a murderer. He was an executioner.

He was brought out of his musings by someone carefully rolling him over. He opened his eyes – when did they close again? – to see that Bruce was gone and he was surrounded by concerned children. “Mr. Hood are you awake?” an older kid, probably 13, asked. He didn’t have the energy to respond at this point.

He just lay there limply, too drained from the physical and mental beating he’d taken from his ‘dad’. “I don’t think so, Chris, we should get him inside. He has a lot of injuries to take care of” the nun said gently. “Jeremy, Chris, Angel… help me carry him into the building.

He felt 4 sets of arms gingerly pick him up and begin to move careful to mind his injuries. Next thing he knows he’s lying on something soft. He must have passed out for a bit because he woke up to someone placing an ice pack on his ribs. He opened his eyes to see that he was still wearing his domino mask and it didn’t feel like anyone had tampered with it.

He gave himself a couple seconds to adjust to the light before he took in his surroundings. He lay on a couch and there were the children whom he assumed were there along with a couple of nuns sitting around him. He carefully sat up, holding the ice to his probably bruised ribs. He put a hand to the back of his head and pulled it away to reveal mostly dried blood.

“How long was I out?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“Only a couple minutes” one of the nuns said. “Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked wringing her hands nervously. Jason took a quick inventory of his injuries. A couple bruised ribs, a split lip, probably a pretty serious black eye, a couple small lacerations, definitely a concussion or two and some sort of head wound.

“Some supplies would be great? I need a basin of water, cloths, some disinfected and possibly another ice pack and some duct tape” A mirror would also be great” he said in an unsure voice. The nun merely nodded and ran to get what he needed. He shifted carefully, very aware of the various aches and pains around his body. Most of the damage seemed to be focused from the waist up.

He raised a hand and began to carefully pry at the edges of his domino mask. He paused, suddenly remembering his audience. He must’ve really not been thinking clearly because he said “ok, so I’m going to take off my mask for a bit. I’m not going to tell you my name or anything but I gotta check if something broke the skin” instead of just leaving the mask be ad getting the hell out of that orphanage. Although it was kind of like seeking asylum from the goddamned Batman. “You can’t tell anyone.”

They all nodded and he continued to pry off the mask in silence. He sighed as the last of the mask peeled off of his bruised eye. He dumped the mask beside him and massaged around the area where it touched his face. That’ something he never like when he was Robin.

The nun came rushing back in to the room and carefully set the supplies down beside Jason, taking care not to stare at his face. He appreciated that. Some of the other nuns, unfortunately did not show the same courtesy and openly gawked at his eyes. He fought the urge to blush and distracted himself by beginning to tend to his wounds.

He took the duct tape first and the ice pack first. Then he proceeded to take them to his torso by wrapping the tape around the ice packs and his body. “You’re so young! You look like you should still be in high school.” One of the nuns gasped. He raised an eyebrow at her. Did age really matter? He’d died when he was 14. Really, he’d been tortured and blown up. Anything he does now will always pale in comparison.

He wet a cloth and picked up the mirror and began to wipe at the dried blood around the lacerations. “Well fate hasn’t exactly been kind to me sweetheart. This is far from the worst that’s happened to me” He replied nonchalantly. Luckily the punches hadn’t broken the skin and the blood washed away decently enough. He quickly disinfected the wound without flinching. Once he was finished, he carefully placed his mask back on, minding the cut on his cheek.

“You have questions I suppose?” he sighed as he leaned back onto the sofa.  That seemed to open the floodgates and suddenly _all_ the questions were just tumbling out.

“Why was Batman attacking you?”

“Why did you duct tape the ice packs to your ribs?”

“Are you sure Batman isn’t your dad?”

He snickered at that last one. Many more questions were asked but they were almost too jumbled up to understand. He raised a hand weakly and they silenced themselves. “Ok, I’ll answer your questions _one at a time_ please.” He said in amusement. “Batman was attacking me because he thought I was killing orphans because they were disappearing off the streets, I use duct tape because it’s easier than just holding them and–” here he stared that one kid who kept asking this question right in the eye.

“Batman was never a father figure to me. So yes, I’m sure Batman isn’t my dad.” The kid pouted and he rolled his eyes. “Now raise your hands and I’ll answer your questions _one at a time_.” Every hand in the room went up. He deadpanned, this would take a while.

 

* * *

 

It took a while and it was very slow going, but he managed to answer everyone’s question. Now there was only 1 child left. “This isn’t really a question Mr. Hood” the 7 year old boy began, “but I want to be like you when I grow up. Batman’s just a stupid meanie.” The boy continued confidently. Jason couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was _not_ in any way, shape or form that someone should look up to.

“No, no, no!” he backpedaled, “I am not someone you want to be” he continued hastily. The child pouted.

“But I want to be a hero” he said sullenly. Jason wanted to shake the child, but he decided not to because that would hurt his ribs.

“I’m no hero, and what I do is dangerous. There are plenty of ways for you to be a hero that don’t involve dying. I paid with my life to give you guys a chance” he said seriously, trying for a guilt trip. The children stared at him wide eyed before nodding. Then one of the kids started to yawn and 2 nuns began to usher them out.

“You’re good with them you know” the middle aged nun said. He turned to face her.

“You think?”

“Yes, perhaps you should come sometime during the day. Without all of this… vigilante business.” She suggested. He thought about it and relaxed into the couch. They sat in silence for a bit until suddenly Jason began to talk once more, this time changing the subject.

"How'd you get Batman to leave me alone? I was kind of out of it." he asked suddenly. The nun blushed lightly before answering.

"Well... I may or may not have pointed a gun at him and threatened him" she said sheepishly. He looked at her stunned, first at the fact that she even had a gun, and second because she used it to defend him.

"You have a gun?!" he asked incredulously, "and you threatened Batman with it?" Don't get him wrong, he's definitely impressed. Anyone who has the guts to go up against Batman when he's in a rage has his respect. The nun glared at him and placed her hands on her hips.

"I'll have you know that we live in a very dangerous area and after the 5th attack we learned to defend ourselves! And it was either that or let Batman beat you to death" she said indignantly. He blushed at her response, he knew how dangerous the are was, it was just kind of hilarious and terrifying to picture a nun with a gun and threatening Batman.

"Thanks" he mumbled as the old nun smiled softly. They sat in a companionable silence for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

A week later a man walked in wearing a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was tall and muscular, although he seemed pretty laid back. He was pretty ordinary, the only recognizable thing was is bright teal mischievous eyes. A nun led him into a room where the children were playing.

They all froze as soon as he walked into the room. “Children, meet our new volunteer” a nun began with a smile on her face as she watched the looks of dawning realization on the children’s faces. “Mr. Jason Todd.”


End file.
